Posted on August 27, 2021August 28, 2021 by mgminer · 9 Comments

Poetry Friday, August 27, 2021

Poetry Friday is hosted by Elisabeth. Drop by and visit here.

One of the blessings of the past year has been the opportunity to participate in poetry classes via Zoom. One of these was a 6-part series called Poetry of Resilience that was hosted by James Crews and Danusha Lameris. I have become very fond of them as poets, thinkers, and teachers.

This week I have been thinking about my experiences with poem writing. I am a novice, at best, but with each poem I write, I gain a little confidence. Poetry is something that is a private practice to me. I read and write it mostly by myself, and haven’t shared my poems very widely. I’ve never had a desire to be published, or to enter a contest, but I’m happy to have this small space in the universe to try out a few thoughts.

Belief

Walking beaches
and country lanes

Climbing mountains
and city hills

Circling the track
and neighborhood block

Strolling along rivers
and wandering forests

Always looking
Always searching
Always listening

Starting to believe
the poem
is
in me.

DRAFT, 8-27-21

Posted on August 13, 2021 by mgminer · 10 Comments

Summer Poems

Today my poem is in response to a challenge given to write a summer poem. So many poems celebrate the glories of summer. It was humbling to try to add my words. I kept thinking of the quote attributed to Albert Camus:

“My dear,
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.

Truly yours,
Albert Camus”

The idea of an invincible summer appealed to me when I first came across these words nearly 50 years ago. I thought of summer memories and images I’ve loved over the years which have lived in me as my own points of strength. In addition, I love the form of the Praise Poem which I learned from Glenis Redmond. (You can read her lesson here). These thoughts came together in the poem which follows.

Invincible Summer

I am summer.
I am a cobalt blue damselfly
Darting here and there.
I am a lonely creek
Meandering through the hemlock-dark hollow.
I am a red-winged blackbird
Perched as a sentinel over the meadow.
I am a tiny Deptford Pink flower hidden in grasses
And secretly plucked by young lovers.
I am the slow winding down of hot
Summer days–
Sunsets that last for hours.
I am August’s crescent moon
Smiling as nature’s night songs lull
Children to sleep.
I am summer.

Marilyn G. Miner DRAFT
August 13, 2021

Thank you to all the poets who share their poems here, and to Christie Wyman, who is hosting today at https://wonderingandwondering.wordpress.com/

Posted on August 6, 2021August 6, 2021 by mgminer · 8 Comments

Self-talk of a Mosquito

As a child I practically lived outside in the summer. We had no air conditioning then so we survived by staying outside. I remember getting mosquito bites, but it was no big deal. Sadly, in recent years, mosquito bites have become a big deal producing huge welts and frantic itching that even awakens me from sleep. So imagine my indignation when I was attacked by a mosquito the other night as I slept.

I thought of this incident when Christie Wyman (you can find her here) challenged a small group of poets to write a poem from another’s perspective. At first, I found it difficult to think of an object, a character, or a person whose perspective I could take. Then, I started scratching again and my topic became clear. Here is a draft of that poem:

Self-Talk of a Mosquito

You know,
I’ve been through a lot already in my life.
I’ve escaped dragonflies from above
and fish from below.
Now it’s my turn to feast.
Oh my…I’ve caught you sleeping.
Where should I begin?
First, let me just slide in here
Between your fingers…
This skin is thin—such a tender, delicate spot.
Yikes!
Here come the scratchers.
That was fast.
I’d better move on.
What about that sleek forearm
or the squishy spot on your tricep?
Mmmmm…juicy.
Can I possibly penetrate those tense, tight trapezius muscles?
I’m going to try. Here goes!
Good thing you’re still sleeping and don’t notice my voice.
This muscle is tough, but
you won’t miss the tiny bit of blood I take.
You’ll know I’ve been here
By the spit I leave behind.
It’s just a little anticoagulant to thin your delicious blood.
Scratching again? Scratching still?
Antihistamines, I’ve heard, might help.
Thank you.
You’ve been a most gracious host.

August 4, 2021

Many thanks to this week’s hostess, Mary Lee. You can find her roundup on her blog, A(nother) Year of Reading. I hope you will join us for reading, writing, commenting, and celebrating Poetry Friday!

Posted on July 17, 2021July 17, 2021 by mgminer · 1 Comment

By the Window, an ekphrastic poem

The old trellis

leans against the time-weathered window.

Rudbeckia crowds reach their faces upward–

their brown gumdrop centers

encircled by petals like yellow sun rays.

These bursting blooms endure across years and shout

Even when

No one lingers to witness such glory.

May I pass by and stop.

Posted on July 9, 2021July 9, 2021 by mgminer · 8 Comments

Poetry Friday

Christie Wyman’s Poetry Ponderings class began this week. We explored the functional, flexible, and fun list poem. The varieties are endless. My thoughts were drawn to my sisters. Our parents are gone and as we are getting older now, we depend on each other in new ways. We have an older brother, but he has always lived far away. The three of us live within 30 minutes of each other and are very grateful.

A sister can be…

a partner for jumprope
an opponent for games
a cheerleader
a joker at the table
an alto in the choir
an accompanist extraordinaire
a maker of beautiful things
sewn, knitted, or embroidered
a friend
a companion on walks
a sharer of stories
a potato salad making wizard
an appreciator
a “Faithful Fretter” when things are hard
a recommender of books
a constant in times of change

for always

Poetry Friday Round-up is graciously hosted today by Margaret at Reflections on the Teche

Posted on July 6, 2021July 6, 2021 by mgminer · 2 Comments

Fireworks

I have been out of the habit of attending the 4th of July fireworks in my town even though we live just up the street from where they are presented. It started when I had a child who could not bear the sensory overload of flashing lights and booming sound. Later, it was I who could not bear the mosquitos and crowds. And then, there was often a grandbaby to stay with that made it easy for me not to go. But this year, on Sunday, the 4th of July, I was coaxed into going.

“It’s just down the street. You can go home if you need to, but come!”

I sat on a neighbor’s concrete driveway and waited until dark. I looked up and saw splendor I had forgotten. The lights, colors, booms, and thrill of not knowing what would come next. I tried to pay attention and be present this year. (We have been through a lot as a nation, and it seems more has been criticized than celebrated.) But, that’s an essay for another time. Instead, here is my poem to try to capture some of the experience I had celebrating our America.

Spirals of fiery light

Shoot toward the stars.

A ball of light bursts into luminescent spokes

Tipped with red, white, and blue.

Colored bits of light fall like confetti and disappear,

Leaving spider veins of smoke etched on the night sky.

Then, flash!

A ball of light surges upward again and again,

Erupting to rain fronds of sparkling weeping willow boughs.

Glittered fire-anemones briefly kiss the sky

Like celestial Queen Anne’s Lace.

It’s a wonder to consider

what gave man the desire to send earthly joy to

the glories of the night sky–even if just for a moment.

*“We seek the fire of the spark that is already within us.”* ― Kamand Kojouri

Writing slices of life Tuesdays and each day in March. Thank you twowritingteachers.org

Posted on April 27, 2021 by mgminer · 7 Comments

For Jane

When warm weather calls
and the grass is just green
there’s a time of day
when bunnies can be seen.

Jane is my daughter who
loved bunny hunts best.
“Mommy, look!” she would say
“It’s our small, furry guest!”

Now she’s a mom,
her baby still new.
Will she teach him of bunnies,
spring green, and sky blue?

Writing on Tuesdays and every day in March.

Posted on March 31, 2021 by mgminer · 11 Comments

Ars Poetica

I have read this term before, but it wasn’t until last night that I got to learn more about it. It was our last class with Georgia Heard in this series of classes. She taught us that Ars Poetica is a term for a poem that is a meditation on the art of poetry, the poet’s beliefs about poetry, where poems are found, or what poetry could be in an individual’s life. This form of poetry dates back to Horace in 65 B.C.E. and has been part of poetic literature ever since. We read Ars Poetica by Pablo Neruda, Lucille Clifton, Jose Olivares, and Georgia Heard.

I am a beginner on this road; a novice at poetic forms and techniques; an emerging reader and writer of poems. I’m enjoying being a learner and am trying new things in my writing. This community has contributed to my having courage to do this.

Georgia gave us an exercise which I will share. Perhaps your students would take these questions and create something truly wonderful.

What kind of animal is your inner poet?
Who does your inner poet speak to?
What does your inner poet say?

In our group, these were the animals chosen: lion, spider, wolf, owl, haw, doe, deer, sparrow, striped bumblebee, and hummingbird. It was remarkable that there was so much variety. We did it as a quick write in the moment. Here is what I wrote last night. It is a DRAFT, at best, but I share it to give you an idea of something you might try.

Ars Poetica

My inner poet is a great blue heron
standing still in hidden wetlands.

It speaks to the tides flowing in and out.
It speaks to quiet souls who weep.

It says, Be patient.
Wait for the miracle. Watch and wait.

Thank you to all at Two Writing Teachers who support teacher-writers in growing as writers.

Posted on March 22, 2021 by mgminer · 6 Comments

Form

As a music student, I was introduced to the concept of musical forms such as the sonata, fugue, or symphony. My teacher felt that a study of form across disciplines plus a study of how to listen would provide a deep education for anyone who pursued that path. I became a better listener of music when I knew more about form.

Fast forward nearly 50 years and I am back in the study of form. This time poetic form. My task this week was to write a poem in a form created by Marilyn Singer called a Reverso. You can read about the form and her poetry here. I have struggled to write such a poem, but I did learn a practice technique that helped me.

First, draft your thoughts.

Next, write words, phrases, or sentences on strips of paper (1 line of poetry per strip).

Then, play with the strips. Change the sequence or tear it in half to make two lines. Discard unnecessary language. Add necessary language or revised language.

Finally, decide on the order that becomes the poem you want to write.

Publish.

My poem-draft is too rough to share here, but below is a picture of my workspace. This practice technique took away some of the frustration and fear associated with writing a reverso. Maybe it will help you or your students with their poetry!